Love is a Distraction
by fahrikol
Summary: Sherlock has solved yet another case, but discovers he wasn't the only one working it. A detective who specializes in observation among other things, Astrid Stirling, jumps into Sherlock's life and teaches him that people need to live in their own way. The consulting detective turns to an intriguing woman with a dark past who introduces him to a new way of life: emotion and others.
1. Chapter 1

John Watson hopped out of the taxi after paying the fare, and headed up to the door. He was about to knock, but then reconsidered, and just headed inside. He hadn't seen Sherlock for four days now, since they had solved the mystery involving a very large diamond and twins who were very rich. When John walked in, Sherlock was lying on the sofa, with his hands against his mouth and chin. He jumped up, still in his dressing gown.

"Ah John! I was wondering when you'd turn up."

"Well I needed to make sure that you were ready for later."

"Later? What's later?... Ohh, yes, the Rhodes sisters' Christmas Benefit. John, do we have to?" Sherlock complained.

"Yes Sherlock, they asked us to come, and so come we will. Besides, when we were leaving before we went to the pub, you said there was something strange about something they had said. I don't even remember, but I assume you would want to investigate." John lured Sherlock. "C'mon, you have to get your things together."

"That's right. I did say that the way they were speaking was odd. I brushed it aside though. However," Sherlock rolled his neck and closed his eyes.

"Oh God, not this. Alright, well, I'm going to go get the suit I rented for you and when I get back, you had better be ready to go." John emphasized the word I each time, and then walked out of the room, and went into Sherlock's room and grabbed his things. When he came back out, Sherlock was looking up at him curiously.

"What to do you mean, go?" He seemed annoyed to be pulled out of wherever it is he was, which, John knew by now, could be anywhere from his Mind Palace to the sofa he was on.

"Well, you're coming to me and Mary's place to get ready, because the Rhodes sisters wanted us all to go together. Now come on." Sherlock stood up and put on his scarf and then his belstaff. "You're not gonna change?"

"John, you of all people know I don't need my pants. Besides, I'd just have to change again at your place. Let's go." The two left the building, but not before shouting out to Mrs. Hudson and letting her know that they would be out late. Sherlock hailed the taxi amid the snow, with John following, carrying the bag and they both got inside.

"So you figure anything out about whatever it is you were wondering about?" Sherlock smiled at John's comment.

"Indeed I did. You know how we only had one twin with us the whole time? They had hired another detective to investigate. At the end, they knew we were right, so they both abandoned the other detective and came to congratulate us on our very correct solution. I don't know why I didn't see it before."

"Why on Earth would they hire another detective though? I mean, you're the great Sherlock Holmes."

"I don't know. Which is why I intend to ask them when we get there."

* * *

John, Mary, and Sherlock, stepped out of the black car that had arrived to pick them up and discovered that only the caterers had arrived. Sherlock and John were in their tuxedos and Mary was in a sleeveless violet dress, with a matching shawl. The three quickly made their way inside, and discovered one of the sisters, Candace, exchanging a few words with one of the caterers. He saw them approaching and bade her farewell, and she did the same to him.

"John, Sherlock. Pleasure to see you two again. And you must be Mary." She offered her hand, which Mary shook. "Luna is upstairs, waiting for me to take you on up. There is someone whom we are very excited to introduce to the three of you." Candace was in a light blue sleeveless dress, with a streak in her blonde hair that matched the color exactly. In fact, everything about Candace screamed the light blue. She led them up the center staircase and then to the right. There, in the large room that overlooked the ballroom bustling with preparations, they discovered Luna, clad in a sleeveless, faded yet elegant pink dress, which, like her sister, matched everything about her, including a streak in her not-as-pure-blonde hair.

"Sherlock, John. Pleasure, once again. And I assume this is Mary. Quite a pleasure, miss." Luna offered her hand, and Mary shook it. Candace looked over at her sister questioningly, and Luna playfully rolled her eyes. "I turn around for two seconds because one of the caterers wanted to know where to recycle the boxes they had brought with them, and so I told him. By the time I turned back around, she was gone. I dunno where she went, but I'm sure she'll be back." Candace sighed. "Do, come in, have a seat." Luna motioned towards the sofas and chairs in the room. John and Mary took a loveseat together, Candace and Luna took the other, and Sherlock sat by himself in a chair.

"So, Luna, Candace, who is it that you want us to meet? The other detective you hired?" Sherlock leaned forward, pressing his hands against his mouth..

"Actually, yes, you are quite correct Mr. Holmes." Candace replied, and her and Luna exchanged a quick glance.

"Now let me ask you this then: Why would I want to meet the other detective you assigned to this case when they failed?" Sherlock maintained a calm demeanor, even though he was really shocked that such a thing should occur.

"Because I didn't fail, Mr. Sherlock Holmes." A woman stood at the balcony, looking over the edge. "In fact, I solved the case before you did. The Rhodes twins can vouch for me." She turned around, and her entire audience got a good look of her. She was just above average height, with black hair that was supposed to be a pixie cut but was a tad fuller and longer. Rather than wearing a dress, she wore black pants that were loose and flared near the bottom, and the edge was slightly tinted red. Her top was also black, but only had one sleeve which flared to a red tint. Her right arm was bare, except for a black band that was embroidered with red, about two-thirds of the way down her forearm.

"This would be Astrid Stirling. Astrid, this is Sherlock Holmes and John and Mary Watson." Luna motioned towards each of them, and then an empty seat between Sherlock and herself. The young woman walked on over and sat down.

"What an acquaintance. Sorry I couldn't be here sooner, I had to go change the music. I just can't bear to think of what sort of music these two will play." She motioned over at the twins, and smirked, and then shook Sherlock's hand. When she spoke, there wasn't an ounce of smugness or arrogance about her, it was all pure, honest and optimistic with a touch of curiosity.

"How did you solve the case before I did? And do you three know each other?" Astrid laughed.

"It was quite simple Mr. Sherlock. The same way you did it. Only faster. I knew the odd little photographer was a dead end from the way he walked. No one could possibly walk like that after doing something that huge, unless they were a psychopath, which he clearly wasn't. And I was able to help their father out in an incident where I just so happened to be Mianyang at the time he was in need of a detective about four years ago."

"We hired two detectives who were the best of the best, and not only put them to race with each other, but also to confirm each other's solutions, which you two both did." Candace explained, mainly to Sherlock, but he wasn't paying attention. He was observing Astrid, and it took him a moment to realize she was doing the same. His piercing blue eyes met her dark brown ones.

"Perhaps we shouldn't do it this way. The old fashioned way is preferred when one is, so to speak,_ vashe psikhicheskoye ravny_." She smirked, and Sherlock did the same.

"If you wish so." He replied and they nodded to each other.

"Anyways," Luna picked up, "We felt we ought to introduce you before the party, and let you know that we released it to the public that you worked together to solve the case." Luna seemed eager for an opportunity to leave, which was soon granted at the sound of the door opening and a very sweet voice thanking the chauffeur. "We ought to be going to greet our guests. It appears Lord Julius has already arrived." Candace rolled her eyes, and Luna flaunted a smile and gently nudged her sister. They stood up, promised to see everyone later, and left the room in a flourish.

There was silence for a few moments, which Mary deemed necessary to break by bringing up the conversation of how wonderful everything looked. All the decorations fell into a Christmas theme.

"And its not just the decorations. Even the food and wine is Christmas themed. Mistletoe Champagne, Red and Green Wine. Such a bloody awful pun." Astrid shook her head. "But it all is quite beautiful. Those two know how to throw a party." There was small talk for a few more minutes between Mary and Astrid, and John and Sherlock were attempting to talk with each other the whole time via their eyes. Both were unsure what to make of Astrid. Astrid and Mary both laughed at something, and they heard Astrid's laugh for the first time. Sherlock thought it was full and beautiful to hear, but it almost sounded as if this had been the first time in awhile and as if she missed laughing.

John took this opportunity. "It's good to see that you two are enjoying yourself, however, I promised Mary more than a few dances before it gets too packed, and it sounds as if the music is about to start." Astrid smiled and nodded.

"It was wonderful meeting both of you, and I do hope to see you again sometime." She said, and leaned back in her chair.

"And the same to you, Ms. Stirling." Mary waved and the couple walked out. As they walked down the staircase together, Mary leaned over and in John's ear whispered, "I like her." John looked a bit surprised at this. "I like her. She'll be a good fit for Sherlock."


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock looked over at the woman sitting next to him, who was probably four years younger than him.

"Ms. Stirling, I," Sherlock began, but was interrupted by her laugh.

"Astrid. Just Astrid."

"Alright, Astrid." Astrid nodded when Sherlock said her name. "Why are you here in London? You accent says American and British, but as previously stated, you were in China, and your Russian suggests you've been there as well."

"Impressive pick up on my accents. I needed a change of scenery for a bit. I moved a lot as a kid. Everywhere is either too full of itself or too corrupt, or both. I wanted something exotic, but familiar. And London is the center of the world nowadays. I'm just visiting for a few weeks, vacationing, before I head to Canada in early January to check on a contact of mine."

Sherlock nodded and stood up. Astrid followed him over to the balcony, which overlooked the main room. The Watsons were off to the side chatting with a few other people, and Candace was dancing with the man who was probably Lord Julius. Luna was off chatting with a few others, and there were groups of people throughout the room. Only a few couples were dancing to the traditional song that was playing.

"I am quite curious, but you said that we were going do this the old fashioned way. I assume you meant by getting to know each other. You probably assumed that that's not exactly my thing."

"I did assume, but I figured you would cooperate. I hope it's not too much trouble. I've never had the chance to just get to know someone, and not observe them. It's probably never happened to you except for maybe John. However, I was quite excited that you understood my Russian. 'Your mental equal.'" Astrid laughed. "I would have preferred to have said your equal in mind, sounds more dramatic, but it means the same thing."

"It does. So why are you here?" Astrid tilted her head to the side, as if not understanding. "Why are you really here?"

"I told you, I'm vacationing." She said the last word as if it tasted sweet.

"So, solving crime is what you call a vacation?"

"Why yes, it's most certainly a vacation compared to what I usually do."

"And what is it that you do?"

"I do lots of things. I really am, you could say, all that." Astrid's eyes laughed as if it were some joke only she understood. "Well, if we're going to get to know each other, aren't you going to ask me about myself?"

"I was getting there. Tell me about yourself."

"Lovely. To keep it short, I was observant as a child, and my parents couldn't stand me. My biological father knew people, who knew people, and was able to insert me into the black market. Thanks Daddy. I was taken in by a sect of, well, we'll just call them monks for now even though that's not true, but I'm not technically allowed to say what they're called, but monks buying from a black market? Ridiculous!" Astrid laughed. "Sorry, I got a bit distracted. So, they weren't monks, but they were members of this League who noticed my skill set. Let's just say I developed my observation and deduction skills, and my combat skills, as well as many other things. Once my training was complete and I had mastered everything else that was necessary, and I was the third and youngest successful member, and all at the age of 23," She raised her right hand with a flourish, "I decided I would travel the world and do what I could. I quickly developed many dutiful and loyal contacts, and my network stretches farther than most would imagine. From one of these contacts, I discovered what had become of my biological family. My wonderful family had managed to work their way up into Chicago politics, which are corrupt enough, and they corrupted the city even more. With more than a touch of drama, I reappeared in Chicago, and uncovered the most corrupt politicians who were all involved in a money scheme, mainly my family, and brought them to the ground."

"The Great Chicago Scandal." Sherlock mentioned the case that was almost as well known as some of his work.

"Indeed. Since then, I just do small cases, and my contacts always have something interesting for me. I needed a holiday though. I figured this would be nice. Most of my cases involve some sort of combat, which is only one of my specialties, but this was quite relaxing."

"What are your other specialties?" Sherlock pried, but was curious above all else.

"Combat, hand-to-hand and most types of weaponry, although I do prefer sword or escrima sticks. Observation. Drawing. It's how I think things out. Dancing. I've been hoping to use it in a case, but it's never come up. It's quite tied to combat, surprisingly enough. They both require a certain amount of flexibility and training." She paused for a moment. "I can tell you're a dancer, Sherlock." Sherlock laughed.

"No one's ever been able to figure that out before. Not even my brother. I had to tell John."

"Well, it was quite obvious. Not only from your build, but also from the way your eyes lit up like a little boy's when I mentioned it." Astrid laughed, and spun around. "So, what do you think?" Her eyes lit up, curious for his response.

"Intriguing life story."

"I wouldn't call it intriguing. I'd say it's," She paused, searching for the right word, "complicated. Sadly, some of my childhood is classified, otherwise I would share more."

"I suppose that it's my turn to share then?"

"It is indeed your turn to share, Sherlock. Don't hold back." And so the two walked back over to the chairs, and Sherlock spent the next twenty minutes relating to her a brief summary of his childhood and his adulthood in decently vague terms, as she had done to him. She never stopped listening, and was just as curious as he had been, asking questions at all the right times, about all the right things. The two discovered they were quite similar, on a matter of terms. After Sherlock finished, they bounced stories from their childhood off of each other.

"One time, my brother, not biological, I had literally called him Brother Taylor…" Astrid started, and the story was so absurd, Sherlock was not only shocked, but amused.

"...And the goldfish jumped out of the bowl, and down the garbage disposal…" They encountered many strange tales, in one of which Sherlock shared how he and his brother had gotten a pet goldfish, that was so stupid it had thrown itself to its death while Mycroft was changing the water. "He never was the same." The duo laughed, and the stories continued, eventually shifting to more recent events, different cases and clients, and eventually to their thinking patterns.

It soon became clear that most of the guests had arrived, based on the noise from downstairs leveling off, rather than increasing, and it wasn't even 7 o'clock.

"Your Mind Palace." Astrid remarked. The two were now leaning against a window sill, overlooking a garden covered in snow. "It's a lot like my Comic Box." It had become clear that while she appeared above all things, she a was actually a very curious, geeky, yet intriguing woman who allowed herself the guilty pleasure of comic books. It was an odd hobby, but nonetheless, more than a few of Sherlock's had come out during their conversation. "It's where I keep everything of importance, every little scrap of knowledge. I keep almost everything there. Except for my Strong Box. That's where I keep all of my emotions, nothing gets in or out without my knowledge. I enjoy letting them out if the matter arises because it's important to live life to the fullest, and occasionally I'll let one or two slip out on purpose. I assume you have one of those as well."

"No. I don't. It is an interesting idea." Sherlock seemed perplexed as to why he had never thought of this before.

"You probably have subconscious one. It would make sense."

"Emotions can be useful. Why would you lock them up?"

"Yes, they're what makes life interesting and they're motivators. That's why I said I let them out. Enough to live, but not die. Enough to motivate, but not obsess."

"That's solid reasoning."

"Yes, but I keep love and hate always put away. Over the course of my life, two things have become quite clear, from observation and experience. Love is a distraction. Hate is a disadvantage. It's important to keep those two above all else in check. Other emotions can be controlled, but those two are recalcitrant." Astrid sighed.

"I couldn't have said it better myself." Sherlock remarked.

"How long are you two gonna be up here?" John's head peered through the door. He had three glasses of champagne in his hands, one was half drunk. He handed the two full ones to them. "You should at least come down for a bit and socialize or dance or something." The two glanced at each other, but John didn't seem to notice. "Otherwise, Luna and Candace will send the catering boys up here to drag you down."

"Well alright John. If you insist." Sherlock replied. The three walked down the grand staircase together.

"I thought you were joking when you said there was Red and Green wine. Apparently you weren't. However, I stuck to the Mistletoe champagne. I don't even know what it's supposed to taste like," John commented on the way down the staircase, until they got into the ballroom. Mary was there chatting with Luna and a few other women, but when she saw the trio, she excused herself.

"What were you two doing up there?" She asked.

"Chatting." Sherlock bluntly replied. Mary smiled, and nodded. John and Mary then headed back into the ballroom.

"What's the best way to avoid talking to all of these people?" Astrid whispered, clearly annoyed to have had her conversation with Sherlock cut short in order to socialize.

"I believe it is a specialty of both of ours, and John suggested it." There was a pause for dramatic effect, and, "Dancing." He whispered in response. "I'll meet you on the other side of the room, over by the line of odd sweets and the oversized chocolate fountain." Astrid laughed, which was what Sherlock had wanted to hear, and then they both circled around.

Astrid momentarily intervened in the conversation Candace was in, and said her hellos and then was off yet again.

Sherlock tapped Luna on the shoulder and whispered, "Why am I here?" Luna rolled her eyes and turned around but he was already gone.

Astrid was dipping a strawberry into the chocolate fountain when Sherlock appeared next to her. "Funny running into you here, Sherlock. It's been quite some time, hasn't it?" Her voice somehow managed to say curious and open no matter what she was saying. They both put down the glasses they were holding.

"Indeed. Would you care to dance, Astrid?" Sherlock offered her his hand.

"I would love to. After all, I did pick out the music." She took it, and the two walked out onto the dance floor.


	3. Chapter 3

When they first started dancing, they were silent. Their movement were fluid and in sync, and in the beginning there were a few curious glances, but they were shortly dismissed.

"You're a much better dancer than John." Sherlock commented, and Astrid stifled a laugh. This resparked the conversation, and they continued to share stories from their past adventures, but they were ones more on the humorous or action-free zone. The music was soft and mellow, typical of a benefit, but there was something sweet about it at this particular one. They weren't sure how long they danced, but it later became apparent that it was quite a few hours.

One thing that struck Sherlock as odd was that whenever Astrid was telling a story, she would make strange yet fitting facial expressions for whatever she was saying, and on anyone else they wouldn't have made sense.

While they were involved in an in-depth conversation about the many uses of tobacco ash and Astrid was imitating a tobacco farmer's oblivion to the different types, Luna announced through a microphone near the doorway that the next song would be popular ballroom dance. More than a few couples scurried onto the dance floor, and Sherlock and Astrid found themselves pushed into the inner circle of dancers.

Being a very traditional song, it was expected to be silent, however Astrid and Sherlock continued talking, and in doing so earned a few glares from the neighboring couples. Astrid commented, "You'd think they would just enjoy the dance, rather than criticize someone who was different from themselves."

A point came when one had to switch partners for a little bit, and Sherlock spun around and found himself dancing with his brother's assistant, so-called Anthea. He was taken back a bit, and turned his head to discover Astrid was dancing with his brother.

"Hello Sherlock. It's been awhile hasn't it?" Mycroft smiled over at his brother.

"Hello Mycroft." Sherlock's voice stiffened. "It has been awhile." There was a moment of silence, and Mycroft nodded his head ever so slightly as the woman he was dancing with. "Oh yes. Astrid, this is Mycroft Holmes. Mycroft, this is Astrid Stirling." Mycroft's face darkened at the name, and the two pairs continued to dancing, despite the odd encounter.

"I should have assumed you two would find each other at some point. I was hoping they would be under different circumstances though." They switched back to their original partners. "Well, I would very much like to chat with you in a few moments, Sherlock." The two couples were separated through the sweep of the dance.

"That's your brother?" Astrid was holding back a smile.

"Well, yes." Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "What were you expecting?"

"From your description, I assumed him more," she searched for the right word, "Queenly." The song faded to an end, and the two smiled at each other, and walked off arm-in-arm. They had finished the song just below a piece of mistletoe, hanging from the balcony, and while neither of them said anything, they were not as oblivious as the tobacco farmer Astrid had mentioned.

* * *

Sherlock and Astrid walked over to where Mycroft was, near the bar. Mycroft looked Astrid up and down with a look of distaste. Sherlock peered at him curiously and almost defensively. "I thought I made it clear that my invitation was just for you, Sherlock. Astrid you may go."

"Good heavens, Mycroft. You may run England, but I have a free will. I can come and go as I please." Astrid sat down on a stool along the bar and looked over at the man behind it. She held up three fingers and he got right to it.

"Well, Ms. Stirling, it appears you are as stubborn as ever." Mycroft continued to show distaste on his face.

"Wait, you two know each other?" Sherlock appeared both shocked and confused.

"No worries. I only had the pleasure of working with him, under a web name, which if I remember correctly was something like, Her Royal Majesty underscore Mycroft Holmes." Astrid made a peculiar face, that was slightly mocking the expression Mycroft was making mixed with surprise. Mycroft scowled and Sherlock laughed.

"Actually, it was something el-," Mycroft began, and Sherlock interrupted him yet again.

"Oh shut up Mycroft. No one cares what it actually was."

"So, anyway, the British government needed me to do a favor or two for them, because nobody else could. Some jobs are just too frightening for their own people." Astrid shrugged. "However, I ran into James more than a few times, but he was quite oblivious to my involvement."

"You denied any interaction with him." Mycroft seemed shocked by her, as if he had assumed she would tell the truth.

"Depends on your definition of interaction. I never worked for or with him. He was a psychopath, and had wayyyyyy too much on his hands. I took care of some of it, without his knowledge, after I finished up what your brother wanted me to do."

"Impressive." Sherlock smirked at this, knowing that Astrid was clearly just as capable as himself, but not in a psychotic way. The man behind the bar appeared with three glasses of champagne, and Astrid and Sherlock both took one, whereas Mycroft did not.

"I don't drink."

"Well too bad." Astrid tossed Mycroft the glass and he instinctively caught it. "Impressive. I need to go run and do something. I'll be right back." Astrid jumped behind the bar, and bounced away, drink still in hand.

"What is it Mycroft?" Sherlock turned his head towards his older brother, and took a sip of the champagne in his hands.

"Well, brother, I just wanted to check up on you. You haven't visited in awhile. However, I have a matter that it of the uttermost importance. Someone has been leaving a very important person, in fact one of the most important people in this country, death threats. We believe it to be apart of a network that we have been unable to discover up until this point. We also have proof that these death threats will be carried out, but we need you to figure out who it is."

"Why can't you, Mycroft? After all, your mind is superior to mine." Sherlock took another drink.

"I have other things to do." Sherlock rolled his eyes at his brother's comment.

"It sounds boring, but text me the details. I'll see if I'm interested."

"Sherlock. You need to take this case. It's important." Sherlock leaned against the bar, and Mycroft, who realized that he couldn't get to Sherlock, continued on another topic. "You should stay away from Ms. Stirling. She is trouble. The kind of trouble you don't want on your hands."

Sherlock gave a little laugh, "If she was trouble, then why did you hire her?"

"Because we needed her skill set."

"Well, if we have an assassin on our hands, then I'm sure her skill set will be quite useful."

"She cannot be trusted. I don't want another crisis on our hands. She is," he paused as if to consider telling Sherlock, and then stopped.

"She is what?" Sherlock peered over at his brother.

"Not now. Just be careful. She is deadly. She may not seem like it, but she is, if not your equal, then your superior." Mycroft took a deep breath, put his glass down, and then walked off. Almost immediately after, Astrid came walking from an entirely different direction, still holding her glass, which was almost empty.

"What did he tell you about me?" She asked.

"Just that you are deadly, dangerous and not to be trusted."

"As expected."

"However, I am going to take a risk." Astrid seemed surprised by this, because her eyes lit up, "He said there is an assassin, and I was wondering if you would like to join John and me in a chase." He said it like a statement, rather than a question.

"That sounds like fun. I'll probably show up at your place sometime the day after tomorrow, probably 1:30 in the afternoon. I have to help one of my contacts tomorrow. But then I'm free for the rest of my stay, probably." Sherlock nodded. "Would you like to dance, Sherlock? This next song is one of my favorites." The two walked out together onto the dance floor, and the work of a popular violinist started.

The lights flickered for a moment, and then the lights began fading from clear to blue, and then from blue to purple, and from purple circling through the rainbow. Astrid had a brilliant smile on her face. "Based on the ring fingers of everyone in the room, 87% of them have been out to a pub or club in the past week, and one can never have enough of a pub. Might as well give them something to talk about. Plus it'll be great for Luna and Candace's benefit. It's important to remind them that not everything needs to be formal. Living is for everyone, not just those who look down on most of society, after all." Everyone looked slightly surprised. Then the classical music faded a bit and some elements of alternative and techno music melded with it. Astrid leaned to the right, and pointed "Look." Sherlock followed her gaze.

More than a few people who had earlier been frowning were now smiling, and Candace and Luna had a look of shock on their faces. Candace seemed more worried, whereas Luna seemed to enjoy it just a bit more. John and Mary both looked excited, and headed to the dancefloor and began dancing. Mycroft stood at one end of the room, shook his head, and left. "Remember Sherlock, it's important to live. 1:30." Sherlock turned back around, and discovered that Astrid was no longer there. He pursed his lips, and headed back up to the balcony, and looked over.

Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves even more, to his surprise. The music had an enchanting effect, Sherlock couldn't deny that. The song soon faded, and three more followed, before it faded and everything magically returned to normal. It was past 11:30.

Thinking over his last few moments with Astrid, he remembered a slight pressure on his suit pocket when he was watching everyone else. Sherlock noticed that there actually was something in his suit pocket, and smirked as he pulled it out. Astrid's business card. Her name, number, occupations and a note scrawled on the bottom.

.

.

.

**Astrid J. Stirling**

**** (***) *** ******

**Observation, Combat, Dance, and Comic Book Specialist and Private Detective and DJ.**

**Yes. I really am all that. And much more. Pretty well rounded, if I do say so myself.**

_I was definitely living tonight. Pleasure to meet you, Sherlock._

_ I figure we'll be seeing each other soon._

_1:30 The day after tomorrow, if you were looking for an exact time._

_ I do love hot chocolate._

_._

_._

_._

His mind couldn't stop whirling about Astrid. She was extremely intriguing, and for the first time, Sherlock couldn't place what he thought of someone.


	4. Chapter 4

Everyone began to leave shortly, and in a manner of twenty minutes, everyone was gone, and had promised nearly twice as much as they usually did to Candace and Luna's charity. Only six people remained. Well, seven. But one person's location was unknown to anyone, and, at the moment, was not important. One was, to everyone's knowledge, on the balcony by himself. The other five were gathered in a circle at the the entrance.

"Thank you all so much for coming, Mr. and Mrs. Watson. It was a wonderful evening, and we'll have to have you all over sometime for tea or something like that." Luna laughed, and she had a big smile on her face. She had clearly had too much Red and Green wine. She turned to the first man to arrive, who was in a very stylish, loud tuxedo. "Lord Julius, Candace and I are very glad for your presence."

"It was quite an honor to be present." He shook Luna's hand, but kissed Candace's hand. She smiled, and the Lord and the twins said their goodbyes. Now there were only five. Well, six, but the sixth wasn't important now.

"Should I go grab Sherlock before we head out?" John asked.

Mary sighed. "Yes, go get him." Mary gave John a peck on the cheek and John headed up the grand staircase. He discovered Sherlock standing there, with a piece of paper in his hands, staring out over the balcony at the dance floor.

"Sherlock, you coming? It's quite late, and we should be heading out. Luna and Candace need to get this place back in order, and we need to head home. We can drop you off at Baker Street first. I was thinking -" John paused, and noticed Sherlock was barely paying attention. "Sherlock?" Sherlock lifted his head and turned around to face John.

"John!" Sherlock looked surprised that John was there. "I figured you and Mary would already have left."

"And leave you, peering over a balcony? Nope. Not this time." They both smirked at the fond memory. "Let's go. We'll drop you off at Baker Street. It's late." John yawned. "I have work off tomorrow, not sure why, but I figured I drop on by sometime." Sherlock nodded and walked over towards his best friend, still clutching the piece of paper. "I ran into Mycroft earlier. Last place I expected to see him. He mentioned something important."

"Depends on your definition of the word important. If you consider the life of a woman who will come into power once her grandmother dies important, than I suppose it is."

"He said he didn't tell you who it was about." John raised an eye. He must have told himself that he had grown used to Sherlock's deductions a million times, but nearly every time he failed to make the connection.

"Based on the state of the clothing Mycroft and his assistant, the one you know as Anthea, it's clear that they were getting ready for something very formal. Maybe a benefit," Sherlock paused, and waited for John to finish the sentence.

"But Mycroft doesn't really do that kind of stuff."

"Exactly. So they weren't dressed up for the benefit. Has to be for something professional, and knowing Mycroft, probably dealing with some kind of government problem. The bottom of his shoe had red velvet fuzz on it." John looked confused for a moment. "What?

"Sorry, you said red velvet, and I assumed the cake kind."

"Good heavens John, we're just about to leave a benefit, and you're still hungry?" Sherlock smiled at his oldest and closest friend. "But moving on. When we dealt with Irene Adler, we visited the palace, and the carpeting there is made from the same sort of red velvet."

"Hold up. Sorry, I hate to interrupt you, but," John paused.

"But what?" Sherlock was puzzled.

"You just called The Woman by her actual name."

"Well yes. Isn't that what people do? Call each other by their names?"

"That's true. But every time you've mentioned her, you've always called her The Woman."

"And?" John couldn't help but let out a smile. Sherlock was being Sherlock.

"Nevermind. We should probably head down. It's late." John turned around to leave, but Sherlock stopped.

"But John, I'm not done!" John rolled his eyes, and turned to face Sherlock, crossing his arms. "The velvet carpeting was from a unique manufacturer, and was purposely made for the Buckingham Palace. Therefore, it's clear that someone in the royal family is in danger, because the carpeting matches up. The Queen, now while she is very high up, is practically a corpse,"

"Sherlock!"

"Well it's true, isn't it? Anyway, so since it's not the Queen, it had to be next in line: Princess Lilah is due to take the title of Queen soon enough. Based on Mycroft's appearance and anxiety, the royal line of succession, and the obvious deductions, Princess Lilah is receiving death threats."

"Alright. I hate to say this, but I'm sure Her Majesty can wait until later today, preferably the afternoon."

"Really?" Sherlock tilted his head. "Well, there aren't any clocks up here, but I didn't realize it was that late. Or early." John turned around and headed out, and Sherlock followed him. John hobbled down the stairs, exhausted and filled with alcohol, whereas Sherlock glided down. Luna, Candace and Mary were all talking about some big political debate occurring in Parliament later that week.

"Thank you for the benefit. It was quite nice. I'll make my brother donate something to it." Sherlock put on one of those smiles that even now John was unsure if it was plastic or genuine. "Good night." And Sherlock walked out of the door and headed into the car where they would be driven home in. Luna and Candace looked confused, so John cleared it up the best he could.

"He does that sometimes." Candace looked less confused, but still so, and Luna just shrugged as if she had seen similar before. "However, I should probably chase after him. Thank you very much for tonight. Have a good one." Mary and the twins said quick goodbyes, and promised to stay in touch, which John had a feeling wouldn't follow through. The Watsons hopped out into the car where Sherlock was, and the car started to drive away.

There was silence for a few moments, until Sherlock spoke up. "So. How was your evening together? You two appeared to be having an extremely good time."

"I think I speak for both of us when I say it was wonderful." John answered.

"You most definitely do. John indulged himself in the alcohol, whereas I didn't, but it was still quite wonderful." Mary leaned against John and smiled, causing John to smirk a bit.

"That's good." The car was quiet during the drive. Sherlock stared out the window, and Mary and John, who were sitting across from Sherlock, glanced around the entire cab. Usually it was the reverse. Soon, they pulled up to 221B Baker Street, and Sherlock got out. "I suppose I'll see you two later." Sherlock's voice sounded almost sad and his eyes looked dark.

"Oh, actually, we have to pack for our honeymoon today and tomorrow, because we leave tomorrow afternoon. Remember, an extremely important case made us postpone it?" Mary laughed. John nodded.

"Oh, I forgot about that. Yes, I'll drop by sometime before we leave Sherlock." John's head bobbed as he spoke.

"Oh. Yes. Your honeymoon." Sherlock's voice lowered, and he closed the door.

"Oh, shucks. Now I feel bad about leaving him." Mary shrugged down into her seat.

"Eh, I'll talk to him tomorrow. He'll be fine on his own for a week." John blinked his eyes open, took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes to wake himself up. "So, you said you liked that woman whose name was… Ashtray?" John scrunched up his face, exhaustion and alcohol clogging his memory. "No… no… not Ashtray. Astringent? Asteroid?"

"Her name was Astrid." The name immediately registered with John. "And she'll be good for Sherlock. Someone of his intellect who he can talk to. And somehow she manages to kepp her emotions. She'll open his eyes."

"Maybe not just his eyes." John chuckled, and Mary rolled her eyes and laughed.

"You really are drunk." Mary pecked her husband on the cheek, and the car ride was silent back to their flat.

* * *

The one person no one expected to be in Candace and Luna's house was there. Slowly, they crept up to the balcony. Their movements were short, smooth, and swift. When they came to the place where Sherlock had been only a few minutes prior, they took a deep breath.

"So you were here. But why? More importantly, how could you?" There was a catch in their throat, and they heard footsteps in the entrance that, by matter of probability, were probably going to come up to the balcony. Quickly, the hidden person vanished in the quietest way, yet with the most dramatic flourish. A slip of paper fell out of their pocket in their rush, and fell slowly to the ground. Candace came up into the room and saw the slip of paper laying on the ground. It was printed on the same paper and had the same ink of Astrid's business card she had given to Sherlock. She picked it up, not knowing what it was, and walked out. The person who had vanished, cursed under their breath, and followed Candace down the hallway.

* * *

**I extremely, severely apologise for the delay in the story! I had an extremely long moment of writer's block for how I wanted these scenes to go, but I know what I want to do from here, so keep reading XD I hope you guys like the story so far, and if you can't tell, it's currently post-So3, and I intend to continue! RnR! Oh, and did anyone catch my Harvest Moon references? XD**


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